Matchmaker
by somekindafreaky
Summary: A rather silly oneshot in which Jack attempts to bring Rose and the tenth Doctor together, resulting in drunkenness on Rose's part and much suffering on the poor Doctor's.


This is set, I dunno… some time into the latest series but some time before Jack joins Torchwood (I really don't know what's going on there so just bear with me). Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Disclaimers are stupid.

…

**Matchmaker **

It had been bothering him ever since they had met him having just escaped from the GameStation, wandering around generally looking for trouble. He found them.

It had only been a few days for him; weeks for them. It was weird, but he had come to expect such things from those two. Rose had cut her hair to shoulder-length, and was, he thought, quite a lot slimmer. As for the Doctor – don't get him started!

He had, he was informed, taken the regeneration better than Rose had at first. But that was to be anticipated since he had seen more of the weird and wacky than she had. In many ways she was still very human.

This new Doctor was the catalyst for problem that had arisen on board the TARDIS, for two main reasons. Firstly, he was significantly better looking than his already rather sexy ninth incarnation. The effect of his new-and-improved appearance on Rose was Jack's first clue. Second, the Doctor was now more aware of – at least noticeably – his emotions. The ninth Doctor had been too busy glowering and brooding seriously to take much notice of silly, insignificant things like romance. But the tenth Doctor evidently was more appreciative of things like Rose's legs.

The problem? It was the sexual tension, all over the bloody place. Sexual tension, in Jack's opinion, was all terribly fun, but it did frustrate him when people refused to acknowledge it.

Rose had felt things for the ninth Doctor, Jack had seen, although both she and the Doctor may well have believed it was only very close friendship. The Doctor too, in more subtle ways than he was now prone to, had given hints of jealousy and even physical attraction. But oh, how things were worse now.

For instance, that one evening in the library. Jack had been, in theory, reading, when in actuality he was scrutinizing the antics of his companions. The Doctor had been poring over one of his big old alien tomes, and Rose, bored and tired from another day's adventure, had fallen asleep with her head on his lap.

The casual observer might have thought nothing of it, as the Doctor didn't seem to react at all except to shift occasionally to become more comfortable. But Jack was experienced in the ways of males of females (and males and males, and females and females, for that matter). It was no coincidence, and no result of reading, that the Doctor's foot began to tap, rapidly increasing in speed whenever the slumbering Rose nuzzled his thigh or made a quiet noise in her sleep.

Little things like this – Rose giving a tiny smile whenever the Doctor brushed her hand, or the Doctor watching her walking away in a way Jack recognised because he had done it himself enough times – had inspired Captain Jack to take action, because his friends were taking their sweet time. And contrary to popular belief, they did _not_ have all the time in the world.

At first Jack's instinct was to bring the subject up candidly in front of them both, because in his opinion getting things like this out in the open was already half-way to shacking up or at least dissimilating some of the juvenile quality of it all – the fleeting glances and blushes.

But it quickly occurred to him that when it came to the Doctor, you couldn't always do things normally. Something dreadful might happen, along the lines of his outright denying any feelings for Rose and breaking her heart, or even Rose feeling so awkward she decided she had to leave. No, it was best, he thought, to let them reach the conclusion on their own. But they would need help, because as adept they were at saving the universe, in matters of the heart they were quite useless.

Oh, so many methods to choose from! Locking them in a broom cupboard was a proven technique, but what of the Doctor's irritating little screw driver? He could set them up on a blind date, but that was so corny and they had dinner together enough for it not to mean much of anything. As for speaking to them separately, he couldn't be sure of an honest reaction.

He decided, instead, to gradually feed the flame, as it were. Rose's weakness, he had learnt, was adventure and learning new things; the more the Doctor could give her, the more she would come to realise her feelings for him. The Doctor's weaknesses were more easily targeted – although he loved Rose for her spirit and goodness, something Jack would find it harder to exploit, a lot could be said for jealousy (Mickey had provided enough evidence for this) and a girl's physical charms. These things were Jack's forte.

"Come on, gorgeous, I'm taking you out tonight," such a comment from Jack would ordinarily be followed by a humorous remark from one or the other of them on just who he was referring to, but today he didn't feel like giving any doubt as to who was receiving his attention. He swept into the kitchen as he said it, where Rose was making tea and the Doctor was doing a crossword (which he could just have easily done anywhere else – only the other rooms didn't offer such a nice view of Rose stretching and bending to reach various cupboards). The Doctor opened his mouth to reply, probably with some smarmy comeback, when Jack dipped Rose dramatically and kissed her soundly.

Both of them were used to Jack being more than touchy-feely, but this degree of forwardness came as something of a surprise to both of them. Rose giggled nervously and breathily as Jack looked up to see the Doctor's new brown eyes as wide as saucers. Jack grinned and winked at him before righting Rose on her feet and adding, "So put on something scandalous and meet me in an hour." He sent her off in the direction of her room with a loud clap on her behind, causing both her and Doctor to jump a bit. She flashed him a wry 'behave yourself' smile and exited.

"How about you, Doc, you want to join us?" Jack leant on the table and searching the Doctor's eyes for his thoughts.

"It sounded more like something you wanted to keep between just the two of you. Wouldn't I be a bit of a third wheel?" Did he sound bitter?

Jack could tell the Doctor was anticipating his answer with trepidation. And he knew how to play to it.

His eyes went to the ceiling as if in genuine contemplation. "Well… I was kind of hoping to make a bit of a date of it if you must know…"

The Doctor frowned. "A date? That's all well and good, just as long as you don't bring any romantic complications into our duties."

_Too late for that, mate_, Jack thought, raising his eyebrow. "So what, you want to chaperone?"

"Where are you taking her?"

Jack grinned broadly. "I was thinking of Venus, around 3000 AD."

The trap was set. The Doctor's eyes bugged and then narrowed considerably in comprehension. When humans had first colonised Venus they had gone to ridiculous lengths to declare it _the_ 'make-out point' of the galaxy, which it remained for about three hundred years. There were plenty of perfectly innocent clubs and bars and cinemas that would make for a nice date, but these were outnumbered by the hotels famous for their one-night stands by six-to-one. They said that no one could be resisted on Venus, 3000 AD.

"If you wouldn't mind me tagging along…" the Doctor stood up swiftly.

"Actually, you know," Jack bit his lip, looking thoughtful but really just trying not to laugh, "A bit of privacy wouldn't hurt. You understand, don't you?" he patted the Doctor on the cheek and left before the Doctor could say anything or see Jack's mirthful smile.

…

An hour or so later Rose emerged into the TARDIS control room in a pretty little red cocktail dress and heels. It wasn't as revealing as Jack would have liked, but sufficiently low-cut enough to cause the Doctor to loosen his tie in agitation. Her hair was up, with those nice curly tendrils framing her face, and she looked very good indeed.

Jack wasted no time in telling her so, and took her arm. She giggled and returned the compliment.

"So where are we going?"

"Oh, you'll love it," Jack steered her out with his hand on her lower back, and winked to the Doctor just as the TARDIS door closed. "Don't wait up!"

…

Needless to say, the Doctor did wait up. He paced the control room in frustration for several hours, little menial tasks not nearly distracting enough. He felt so… left out! He couldn't even head a few hours into the future to skip all the pain since he had promised to wait for them, as Jack had had no idea what time they'd return.

Jack and Rose, meanwhile, had a whale of a time wining and dining and dancing. He had originally intended to spend most of their night discussing their absent friend to get her in the right frame of mind for his matchmaking to succeed, but he had kind of been sidetracked by all the fun. Obviously Jack had never had any intention of seducing Rose, enjoyable as it would be, but there was no harm in giving her the time of her life while the Doctor suffered. Rose really was getting the better end of this deal, and by the small hours of the next morning, she was tipsy on alcohol and thoroughly drunk on the sights, sounds and atmosphere.

He carried her back to the TARDIS because she could barely stand for laughing, and they made quite a racket as he stumbled in and almost dropped her, initiating more peals of delight. The Doctor, who had nearly dozed off in a nearby swivel chair, was immediately on his feet and wearing a priceless expression.

"Where the hell have you been?" he spluttered.

"Alright, Dad," Jack set Rose down carefully, unable to wipe the smile from his face, "I told you not to wait up."

Rose's laughter subsided into silent shaking and she leant bodily against Jack, gripping onto his shirt for balance. The Doctor stared at her. "Is she drunk?"

"Only a tiny bit," shrugged Jack. "What? It's not like you never gave her booze before."

"I was always… responsible," said the Doctor lamely. "Get her to bed," he sighed, wilting.

"With pleasure," grinned Jack, swinging Rose up over his shoulder and eliciting another wave of breathless hysterics.

"Her. own. room," the Doctor gritted his teeth and stepped in front of them, plastering a slightly dangerous smile on his face. "You're drunk too, for goodness' sake Jack. Go to bed, I'll take her."

Jack had not entirely forgotten the whole point of this exercise and quite readily relinquished Rose into the Doctor's arms, though not before giving her a quick kiss. The poor Doctor looked extremely relieved to finally get her into his considerably safer care and Rose was too far gone to mind who she leant against. She lifted her head and gazed at the Doctor unsteadily. "Oh my god," she giggled, "You are so… cute!" She meant to tap him on the nose, missed and prodded him in the cheek instead. He just blinked and sighed again, lifting her up with the air of one quite weary with having to put up with two such silly people.

Jack watched the Doctor carry her off, satisfied that he.. they.. had made some progress at least.

…

The next morning, Rose had a very mild hangover and didn't get up until mid-afternoon. The Doctor had been in attendance of her all day, delivering fresh cups of tea and coffee every hour and generally making a bigger deal of it than necessary, which Jack found highly endearing.

"Are you going to be rendering my companion unsuitable for adventure the next day every night from now on?" the Doctor asked as he brewed yet another pot. Jack was at the kitchen table feeling quite pleased with himself.

"Oh, I dunno. You know Rose is _amazing_ company, but romantically, her interests clearly lie elsewhere."

The Doctor didn't flinch but Jack noticed he carried on adding spoonful after spoonful of sugar to his own coffee although he usually only took one.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, she just kept talking about…" he trailed off, enjoying seeing the impatience in the Doctor's tense shoulders. It was sort of a lie, but the intention behind it was right.

"About what? Time, space, the universe, Mickey… what could she possibly find more interesting than you?" the Doctor turned round and took a seat opposite him.

Jack raised his eyebrow pointedly and the Doctor actually had the decency to colour up, which seemed quite uncharacteristic of him.

"For some sort of 900-year-old genius you are slow, Doc," with that Jack stood up and left with the familiar warm feeling of a job well done. The Doctor remained at the table for a minute or two with a gormless stare on his face, before remembering the drinks were getting cold and heading off to Rose's room.

…

Jack didn't know the exact details of what went on that afternoon, but by the evening Rose was out of bed and when Jack entered the control room, he came across the Doctor with one hand at the controls and the other arm firmly around Rose's waist, clearly more involved in talking to her, their faces close and their voices low, than in what he was doing with the TARDIS. They both looked up as he entered.

"Oh, Jack," Rose called, "thank you for such a good time last night!"

"You're welcome," he replied, gaze flitting between her beaming face and the Doctor's silly smile. "I take it you won't be in need of another date with _me_ for some time, though."

Rose dimpled and hid her pink face in the Doctor's chest. The Doctor smiled at Jack, understanding and probably a bit embarrassed at having been manipulated so easily, but looking regardless like the cat that had gotten the cream.

Though not without help.

…

Ehhh, I'm not overly pleased with this one, I had no idea how to end it properly. And I never thought I'd be writing from Jack's POV! That's just how it turned out. But it was my first Doctor Who fic and I thought I'd share it with you at your own expense :)


End file.
